Watching
by momentofbored
Summary: When Peeta returns to District 12 at the end of Mockingjay, Katniss's emotions are more than she bargained for. Can they ever come back together again? Katniss/Peeta.
1. Chapter 1

_**This begins when Peeta returns to District 12 at the end of Mockingjay. Some small liberties will be taken (it is mostly cannon, but some things about his return and their early life together will be slightly different from what Katniss relays at the end of the book).**_

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Chapter 1

Peeta had just finished planting the last of the primrose bushes when he felt rather than saw her behind him. For a minute he was sure he was going crazy- or at least, crazier, and he forced himself to turn around, still on his hands and knees, not nearly as surprised as he should have been to see Katniss standing less than 20 feet away, her mouth hanging open.

"Peeta." Katniss said after a long pause as the bow she was carrying thudded to the ground, her eyes darting frantically between him and the primrose bushes. His name somehow suddenly seemed like a complete sentence all on his own, meaning nothing. Meaning everything. His name all at once a question, a whisper, an accusation, a prayer.

He tried to force himself to say her name in return, but found himself unable to do anything but look up at her, to his own surprise feeling almost empty. Feeling almost nothing.

And she was looking at him too, not in any way that she used to look at him but with something resembling raw curiosity, slight disbelief. "Peeta," she tried again, his name coming out with slightly more purpose this time but, if possible, even more uncertainty, and then again,gently this time, "Peeta."

He desperately wished he could do something other than stare at her but to his shame he found he could not- found he could not even stand up and was grateful that she did not seem to expect him to as she stood there with a slight crease in her brow, and some kind of expectation in her eyes- expectation that terrified him since he knew, absolutely, that he could never rise to meet it-

Endless moments passed before she shook her head as if clearing it and reached down to retrieve the bow before saying matter-of-factly, almost abruptly, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all, "Haymitch and I eat at 7 sharp. Bring dessert."

* * *

Peeta stood on Haymitch's doorstep, a loaf of sweetbread in his hands, trying to find it within himself to knock. . He took a deep breath and raised his right hand before finding he lacked the strength to do anything. He slowly let his hand fall to his side and took a step backwards, where things felt safer.

He had just decided to head back to his own home, to try another time, when the door swung open, allowing a glimmer of light onto the porch as Katniss stepped forward. He blinked at the sudden image, her hair spilling down across her shoulders wildly, looking almost gold. For a moment he felt dizzy and she seemed to sense it,reaching a steadying hand toward him before quickly and awkwardly snatching it back prior to making before contact could be made, biting down hard on her lower lip.

They stared at one another almost like rabid animals for a long moment before she smiled broadly, what could almost have been easily if it weren't for the quiver in her lips, in her voice.

"Peeta," she said what he knew was meant to be warmly, and he tried without success to ignore the fact that her smile did not reach her eyes, the fact that she glanced at him with a combination of fear, unease, and again, hope- hope that he knew he could only shatter- "You're right on time."

She reached out a hand again, this time easily, almost casually, toward him, seeming to want to place it on his arm- but something in his face must have stopped her. She dropped her hand before wringing her palms together almost delicately, with a gentleness he'd never associated with her. "Please. Come in."

Dinner passed quickly, silently. To Peeta's surprise the only drink that seemed to be circulating was water. Haymitch was as sober as he'd ever seen him, and as silent as he'd ever seen him too. Katniss and Haymitch both tried briefly and valiantly to struggle through the pleasantries but quickly gave up at his complete lack of response.

Only once, toward the very end of the meal, as Haymitch was cutting the sweetbread, did Peeta find himself able to speak, looking at Haymitch rather than Katniss as he did so.

"Thank you. For having me," he managed with difficulty. "I hope- you've both been- well."

And despite the fact that his comment was addressed to Haymitch it was Katniss who answered, softly but certainly, forcing him to meet her gaze as she stated directly, purposefully, into his eyes from across the too-small table.

"Oh Peeta. Of course we haven't been well." And then defiantly, almost sarcastically, her eyes never leaving his, "Have you?"

He held her gaze for a long moment before standing up abruptly, rushing out before they could eat any of the sweetbread he'd painstakingly made.

He didn't see Katniss slump over the table as he left, didn't hear her let out what might have been a sob.

Katniss found him the next morning, staring into space on his back porch. He was glad to see her hair was up in a braid again, though he found he couldn't pinpoint why.

"Dinner is at 7," she said, carefully not meeting his eyes this time, clutching her bow to her side, fidgeting slightly. "My house tonight."

She began to stomp away toward the woods, then stopped abruptly. For a moment, Peeta thought she might turn back toward him, but she didn't, just called out firmly, as though there could be no doubt, "Tomorrow night you'll host."

He opened his mouth to protest, but even if he'd been able to speak she was already too far away to hear him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

For the second night in a row, Peeta found himself staring at a door, unable to knock, unable to even really think about anything except for walking away. And for the second night in a row, Katniss pulled the door open, her hair tonight in a messy bun, still wearing the plain brown shirt and knee-high boots she'd had on that morning, but with a skirt that was neatly exposing 2 or 3 inches of olive skin.

"Peeta, come in," she said, not bothering to try to beam at him tonight but instead flashing him a ghost of a smile that at least seemed sincere.

He found himself wavering at the doorway, wondering when he'd so completely lost his grip on reality as to be uncertain about something so basic as an outfit. He seriously contemplated just running back to his own house, assuming that even that was real, and lifted a hand to his head, surprised by how much it hurt.

"Peeta?" Katniss questioned, taking a small, careful step forward, her voice slicing through the cloud in his head. "Are you-" and then she shook her head in something resembling frustration. "I mean, is everything-"

"You're wearing a skirt. Real or not real?" he blurted, feeling his hands begin to shake, lowering his gaze to avoid what he was sure would be the judgment and laughter in her eyes-

But to his surprise she just reached out a slender arm, this time not letting it drop and instead making physical contact, placing her hand firmly on his shoulder and squeezing, waiting for him to look at her before smiling at him.

"Real," she said firmly, sliding her hand down his arm and stopping just above his elbow, squeezing again before smiling almost teasingly, in a way he hadn't seen her do in ages, wasn't sure he'd ever seen her do in a way directed at him. "Do you like it?"

He looked down at her legs, the bare flesh that felt as though it was both wounding him and calling to him and really contemplated the question, hating that he couldn't seem to think about anything quickly anymore, that even the simplest question could leave him dumbfounded. "No. Yes. I don't know." he replied dully, trying not to cringe at how stupid he sounded, the fact that she just continued to look at him kindly somehow making it worse.

And suddenly he realized her hand had slid downward, and was now giving his own hand a firm squeeze as she very, very gently pulled him toward the doorway, shrugging as she did so, flashing him another almost teasing look as she shut the door behind them, dropping his hand.

"Honestly, I don't know if I like it either," she whispered almost conspiratorially, something that might almost have been a twinkle in her eye. "Let me know when you figure it out."

He continued to stand in the hallway for long moments as she stepped into the kitchen, saying something to Haymitch that he didn't quite catch, unable to focus on anything but her confident, thoughtless use of the word "when."

* * *

The meal was better on the second night and so was the conversation. Peeta still didn't say much, but things were somehow more comfortable, with Katniss and Haymitch easily sharing stories about their day, rumors about others moving back to District 12, plans for the geese-

"So, are you like sober now?" Peeta blurted, interrupting them mid-sentence, feeling uncomfortable as they both stopped talking and just stared at him.

"He speaks," Haymitch said dryly, taking another long sip of water, and Katniss rolled her eyes, nudging Haymitch with her elbow.

"He spoke yesterday," Katniss said, rolling her eyes again before shooting Haymitch a smile. "Maybe sobriety is messing with your mind."

Haymitch elbowed her back, effortlessly, and Peeta felt briefly envious of their ease with one another before Haymitch said curtly, "I'm sober for now, kid. Don't get too used to it."

Peeta thought about the statement, tried to figure out if it was worth the effort of speaking again. "What do you mean, for now?" he questioned, closing his eyes, frustrated at how much effort speaking seemed to take, internally questioning whether he'd been right to come back at all.

Katniss and Haymitch shared an uneasy look, and then Haymitch shrugged, looking Peeta right in the eye. "I've been sober for about 36 hours, kid, since I first saw you outside my window. And I'll be sober until I'm sure that you and Katniss are both okay."

Peeta tried to open his mouth, tried to tell them both that he _was_ ok, but found himself unable to say anything, looking down at his empty plate instead. Long, uneasy moments passed, and then Katniss's voice came, again cutting through his thoughts more sharply than any knife ever could.

"Peeta. Will you stay for dessert tonight?"

* * *

Peeta looked up at the ceiling, feeling slightly dizzy as Katniss walked him toward her front door.

"Peeta," she said softly, and he watched a struggle and confusion play across her face, watched her fists clench and then unclench as she contemplated what to say. "I'm glad you're back, Peeta," she finally said, softly, anticlimactically, looking down at her feet, and he clutched the doorframe with his hand, feeling suddenly as though it was impossible to keep standing upright.

"Peeta?" Katniss said again, this time a question, her voice laced with concern that he didn't feel he could bear as she took a step toward him, arms reaching out. He felt sharp confusion as he pulled the door open and stumbled outside, struggling with dozens of feelings toward her- hatred, confusion, anger, affection, love-

"Leave me alone, Katniss," he growled as he stumbled back toward his house, uncertain of whether he wanted to kill her or kiss her or cry in her arms, uncertain of whether anything could ever seem real again.

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**Thank you so much for reading! If you have a minute, a quick review would be appreciated! I should have the next chapter up on Wednesday.**


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

Katniss rushed onto the porch and into the darkness, thinking about all the things she wished she could say._ I'm worried about you, Peeta. I missed you, Peeta. Are you okay, Peeta? Why did you come back here, Peeta? How can I help, Peeta? What do you need, Peeta? Do you want to stay, Peeta? Do you hate me, Peeta? I'm sorry, Peeta._ "Peeta come back!" she shouted and immediately wished that she hadn't as he increased his speed, rushing past his home and toward the woods. She moved to follow him and Haymitch stepped quickly in front of her, causing her to stumble onto the top step of her porch as he hissed,

"Katniss, you have to let it go. You have to leave him alone."

Katniss shot him a withering glare as she pushed past him roughly. "Actually," she said coolly, "I don't."

She tripped quickly down the stairs and rushed after Peeta's disappearing form.

* * *

Katniss didn't catch up to him until she reached the edge of the woods, breathing hard, hair tumbling free from her bun. He was facing away from her, looking upwards at the stars, but she was certain that he knew she was there from the stiffness of his back, from the way she could see his fingers digging into his palms in the moonlight.

"Peeta," she gasped, feeling suddenly stupid for not just listening to Haymitch and leaving him alone, realizing belatedly that she had no idea what to say. "Peeta," she started again, setting her feet firmly, determined to do something right for once before saying impotently, almost ridiculously, "you shouldn't come out here alone at night. It's dangerous."

The words echoed in her head mercilessly in the long silence that followed, and she knew, absolutely, how stupid they must sound to him. The thought of the woods as dangerous now, after everything, seemed laughable, almost more so because it was, technically, true.

The silence dragged on endlessly and Katniss took a step forward, then another, ignoring the crunching of branches under her feet, hoping half-heartedly that wild animals wouldn't hear them. She wondered briefly if Peeta was a wild animal or if he was her friend or if he was something else entirely- something she might not have a word for yet.

When she was next to Peeta, their arms almost touching, she stopped, still looking carefully upwards. "Don't you think the stars are beautiful?" she asked softly, daring a glance at his face, which looked like it was carved out of stone.

Another long silence she came to think would never end followed, and then a short, definite answer. "No. They remind me of the games."

She blinked, feeling suddenly both as though she'd been punched and as though she might cry. "Peeta-"

He whirled to face her suddenly, causing her to trip backward. Before she could fully realize what was happening she fell hard onto the cold ground. Not seeming to notice or care that she had fallen, Peeta shouted "Stop saying my name!" his voice filled with all the agony she imagined he must feel inside, just like she did.

For a minute she just lay there, staring up at him and wondering when his face had become so hard. When it became clear he wasn't going to make any move to help her get up she pulled herself to her feet shakily, wondering dully if she should be afraid, and if he wanted her to be. She squinted at him in the moonlight before saying in what she hoped might pass for defiance, "Ok then, let's make a deal. I won't say your name if you _will_ say mine."

To her surprise he looked at her in what seemed to be real alarm, backing away from her as though she were a dangerous creature. "I- I can't. Don't make me."

"Peeta," she said, unable to stop the name from spilling forward as she advanced toward him hesitantly, wondering belatedly if she should be backing away herself- wondering what she would do if he did try to kill her, now- "You can, Peeta. You're the strongest person I know. Stronger than me. I used to think I was stronger, but that was only when I first knew you-"

She gasped as he suddenly stopped backing away from her and instead took a large step forward, and she would have fallen to the ground again if he hadn't grabbed her upper arms tightly and yanked her upward. She trembled slightly, but she wasn't sure if it was from the cold or from fear or from something else as he shouted "STOP SAYING MY NAME," shaking her roughly before yanking her toward him.

She went still, digesting the fact that her body was compressed tightly against his, her hands splayed against his chest. Without thinking she tilted her head upward. Her eyes locked on his instantly and she shivered, overcome by the depth of emotion that she saw there and wishing that she could identify it. For a crazy moment she thought he might kiss her and she lowered her eyes, not knowing if she wanted him to, not knowing whether, even if she did, she wanted it to be like this-

The silence dragged on and Katniss felt Peeta's heart beating roughly under her hand, his ragged breath hissing past her ear. She looked up again, and immediately wished she hadn't as she saw that his eyes had gone cold.

"Stop saying your name," she repeated dully, suddenly very tired. but as his grip on her arms tightened painfully she felt a shiver of fear instead before gasping, "Why?"

He didn't release his hold and she let out another gasp, thinking about asking him to let go of her. She wondered briefly if it would be better to demand rather than ask or if it would just be pointless either way- "It's just too hard," he replied abruptly, jostling her out of her reverie, and she focused on his words instead of the pain, repeating back cautiously,

"Too hard?" She shook her head, realizing vaguely that his grip was loosening as she continued, "I don't understand."

"That's the problem, Katniss," he said, sounding more frustrated than she'd ever heard him as he roughly, unexpectedly, shoved her away from him, wringing his hands in a way that made her wonder if he wanted to place them on her neck. He turned away and she rubbed her upper arms, hoping to massage some feeling back into them as he continued, still facing away from her, "I don't understand_ anything_ now. The _simplest_ things confuse me. Being back her, coming back here- seeing you."

He turned toward her then and she gasped at the longing she saw in his eyes- longing that she couldn't fully understand. It wasn't sexual, or even romantic and it was filled with pain, uncertainty, hunger- and suddenly she thought she might understand after all as she took a careful step toward him, not dropping her gaze.

"You have no idea what it's like," he said abruptly, turning away from her again, running his hands through his hair in something that looked like desperation. "I look at you, and I remember things, and I still don't know if they're real or not. I look at you, and I feel things, and I don't know if those feelings are real either."

He unexpectedly swung back to face her again, and she was surprised to see a single tear trailing down his cheek, shocked to find that all she really wanted was to reach forward and brush it away. "I thought it would be okay to be back here," he said softly, and she almost fell to her knees at the pain and venom in his voice, venom that she knew, instinctually, was not directed at her, not this time. "But it's not. I'm not. I should never have come here. I'll leave in the morning."

And again, all the things she wanted to say crashed together in her head, somehow not making it to her lips._ Peeta don't say that. Peeta don't go. Why did you come back to begin with then? Do you still love me? Do you care how I feel? How can you say I have no idea what it's like? Do you think life is easy for me, Peeta? Why are you saying this to me?_

But when her mouth opened all that came out was something she didn't even know she'd been thinking, something she hadn't even realized that she'd noticed. "You said my name."

His brow furrowed and he looked at her, his gaze desperate, leaving her feeling as if she'd been punched- leaving her feeling helpless-

Suddenly a crash sounded from somewhere behind them and they both whirled toward the sound, Katniss grabbing a stick and holding it aloft as though it might somehow protect her.

"Hi, kids," Haymitch said, clearly out of breath but trying, almost comically, to act casual as he leaned against a tree. "I miss anything?"

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

They walked back together in silence, Katniss and Haymitch shoulder to shoulder, Peeta far to their left. Every minute or so Katniss would glance at him nervously, almost as if she feared he was going to run away. Peeta tried to slow down, hoping they'd just go on ahead of him, but always, maddeningly, their pace decreased with his.

When they reached Victor's Village Peeta gratefully increased his speed, going toward his home without hesitation. To his relief they did not try to follow him, instead, still without speaking, making a beeline for Haymitch's house together.

For reasons he couldn't quite understand he hesitated on his own porch, looking across the road in the darkness as Haymitch pulled open his front door, stepping inside. Katniss hesitated at the threshold and looked back at him, eyes searching for something that he knew she'd never be able to find.

"I'll see you in the morning," she called out to him, her voice shaking slightly as she did so, and he shook his head, definitely, just once.

"Goodbye," he replied coldly.

He turned into his own home before he could see the expression on her face.

* * *

Haymitch arched an eyebrow as Katniss tore through a cabinet, throwing things seemingly randomly onto the counter before storming onto the next one.

"Are you looking for something in particular, or do you just feel like destroying something?" he asked dryly, genuinely wondering what her answer would be as she whipped around to face him, expression thunderous.

"I am looking," she hissed, "for the_ booze_. What else would I think you keep in your cabinets?"

Though she had said it in complete seriousness, Haymitch couldn't help but let out a laugh as he surveyed her, her hair falling wildly around her face. "_You_. Want my booze," he chortled before his face grew serious and he said darkly, "You wouldn't be able to handle it, and it wouldn't help."

She stormed toward him, face furious, snapping, "That's pretty rich coming from you, Haymitch," before throwing open another cabinet and slamming it shut in frustrating when she saw it was empty.

"What happened with loverboy?" he inquired, his voice light but his expression serious as she yanked open his freezer, grunting in frustration before slamming it shut.

She whirled to face him again, and he braced himself for a tirade that he knew wouldn't actually be directed at him before she unexpectedly sighed, sinking down into a chair at the kitchen table and putting her head in her hands.

"Katniss," he said, for the first time genuinely concerned, yanking a chair next to hers and awkwardly reaching out a hand to pat her on the back, wondering, not for the first time, how he managed to get into these touchy feely situations. "Did he- hurt you?"

She turned her head to face him, seeming to really think about the question before effectively ignoring it, saying instead, dully, "He's leaving, Haymitch."

Haymitch took a moment to digest this information, surprised at how much it did actually hurt, before forcing himself to shrug and say glibly, "Oh."

She pulled away from him, her mouth dropping open before she repeated, angrily, "OH? That's honestly all you have to say to me, Haymitch? OH?"

She leapt to her feet, storming toward another cabinet and opening it to reveal some flour and sugar. She slammed it shut so hard that he felt sure the door was going to snap off. "Give me the booze," she snapped, and he fought the urge to chuckle again,the situation somehow more humorous because she was obviously serious.

"What did you do with Katniss Everdeen?" he inquired lightly, standing up and shaking his head as he moved toward the living room, her hot on his heels. "What ever happened to "talking about it" and the dangers of liquor?"

"Shove it, Haymitch," she snapped before dropping onto his couch and curling her legs under her, looking at him in a nonplussed way as he pulled some vodka from behind the television. "That's where you keep your booze?" she asked in disbelief, and he snorted indignantly before saying,

"No, sweetheart, that's where I happen to have one bottle of moderately strong alcohol. Now do you want some or not?"

She grabbed for the bottle, nearly toppling off the couch as she did so, and went so far as to open it before setting it heavily on the floor, suddenly looking as though she was going to cry.

"Pull yourself together," he said gruffly, fighting the urge to take a swig of the vodka himself as he came to sit on the opposite side of the sofa from the one she wa perched on. "You know it's probably for the best."

Her eyes flashed and he braced himself for another outburst, for the possibility that she might even hit him, but her voice was steady and low when she spoke, her gaze piercing as she leaned toward him. "How can you possibly say that? Of course it isn't for the best."

He bit his lip, contemplating her for a long moment before saying, as gently as possible, when gentleness was something that had never come easily to him, "Katniss, I didn't mean it was for the best for you or for me. I meant it was for the best for Peeta. He's obviously struggling here."

"What, after two days?" she snapped, jumping up from the couch and beginning to pace the room. "Of course he's struggling here. I'm struggling here and it's been months for me. Did you miss the two weeks when I couldn't get out of bed? Did you miss the time I ran screaming out of my house in the middle of the night convinced someone else was in there? Have you missed all the times I've slept on your couch so that I wouldn't have to be in a building all by myself? Of course he's struggling. _So what_?"

Haymitch screwed up his courage and said slowly, "I think you're being a little-simplistic there, sweetheart. Of course we're all struggling. But he has a different kind of struggle. And for him, right now, seeing you is making it worse. Being back in 12 is making it worse. If you care about him, you'll let him go."

Katniss stopped pacing, and her stillness unnerved him more than her movements ever did as she blinked at him. "Care about him? Of course I care about him. That's the whole point. He should be with people who care about him. We can help him through this. We can help him-"

"Katniss," Haymitch interrupted, his voice stern. "Have you stopped to think about why Peeta came here?"

She stared at him blankly for a minute. "It's obvious why he came here. He wanted to come home. And we should help him stay here-"

"No, Katniss," Haymitch interrupted, trying his best to keep his voice severe. "I don't think Peeta just came here because he wanted to come home. And I don't think you believe that either. Peeta came here to see you. You know that. I know that. Your skirt knows that."

Katniss's mouth dropped open and for the first time that he could recall, Haymitch saw her blush. "Why is everyone so obsessed with my skirt-" she started to mutter, but he cut her off again, shooting her a ghost of a smile.

"The better question is where on earth you found a skirt in your closet."

She glared at him for a long moment before a smile cracked reluctantly over her face and she bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "I don't know where it came from. Effie probably slipped it to me at some point."

He smiled at her just for a moment before his face went serious again. "The bottom line is, sweetheart, he came here to see you. It isn't working out for him. For that matter, it isn't working out for you unless you're secretly some kind of masochist who loves being hurt. And if you're planning to go over there and selfishly beg him to stay here despite the fact that it's not in his best interest, you'd better be sure of what you're offering him and be ready to stand by that offer."

She stood there, unnaturally still as she regarded him, repeating blankly, "Offer?"

For one terrible moment Haymitch was convinced he was going to have to spell it out for her, and then, to his amazement, she blushed again, this time turning almost purple. "Oh," she said after a moment, biting her lip thoughtfully before shaking her head in something that almost looked like regret. "You know as well as I do that I'm not ready to… I'm not _able_ to offer anything."

"Then there's your answer, sweetheart," he said simply, hoping she couldn't hear any regret in his voice.

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**Thank you for reading and for the reviews and follows! More are always appreciated, especially reviews. It's hard when you don't know if people like what you're writing :P Sorry for not much Peeta this chapter but next chapter is all Peeta and Katniss all the time, don't worry :) **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Peeta lifted a curtain cautiously, peering out toward Katniss's home in the early morning light. Seeing no sign of movement, he crossed the room and eyed his back porch suspiciously from another window. On seeing no sign of her he sighed, relaxing somewhat despite feeling slightly disappointed. He had assumed, without even thinking about it, that she would try to stop him from leaving. He knew he should be happy she wasn't going to try, that she was going to spare them both this last scene, but instead he felt his mood veering sharply toward sadness as he entered the kitchen.

He walked to the sink and filled a glass with water before swallowing the pill that had been clenched tightly in his hand. He took another gulp of water at the same instant that a low voice said "Good morning."

He whirled around, grabbing a knife clumsily from the counter as he did so and choking slightly on the water he'd just attempted to swallow. To his annoyance, Katniss was situated at the kitchen table, one leg tucked casually underneath her as she took a bite of an apple.

"You broke into my house," he said disbelievingly.

"I didn't break into your house," she scoffed, but she didn't quite meet his eye when she said it, and he vaguely realized he might have found this comical in another life. In another world.

"You broke into my house," he repeated with conviction, glaring at her. "My doors were locked."

"Yeah, but a window was open. Apple?" she questioned, tossing one to him, and he dropped the knife he was still holding to the floor with a bang as he scrambled to catch it. For a minute he looked from her, to the knife, to the apple and once again realized, almost as if this were all happening to someone else, that he should find this comical. That this shouldn't make him want to throw the apple out the window.

"No, thanks," he said carefully, setting the apple on the counter before turning his full attention to her. "I think you should leave."

"What for?" she asked, shifting slightly, taking another, infuriatingly calm, bite of her apple. ""Aren't you leaving anyway?"

He let his mouth drop open, not bothering to hide his disbelief as he said, "That's not really the point. I'd like to eat breakfast. This is my house. I want you to leave."

"Well, then, we've reached an impasse," she said, biting down again on the apple and pausing to chew and swallow before finishing her sentence, "because I don't want to leave."

"My god," he blurted, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "Were you really always this socially awkward?"

To his surprise she smiled, something that might almost have been a chuckle escaping her lips. "Pretty much. Though I do hate to admit this, that falls under the category of 'real'-" and then her face grew serious, and she put the apple down. "What was the pill for?" she questioned, leaving him feeling off balance. Of all the questions she could have asked, things she could have said, he'd never have thought of that.

"Basically," he said through gritted teeth, "the pills are supposed to help me stay in control."

She pursed her lips, and while her expression remained deathly serious, he thought, just for a second, that something resembling teasing flashed through her eyes. "Are they working?"

"Well, I haven't tried to kill you yet," he replied through clenched teeth, and he felt like screaming as the words somehow caused her to flash him a smile.

"Great progress," she said dryly, and he hated her at that moment, hated that he couldn't tell if she was joking or serious, hated that she wouldn't just leave him alone.

She stood up in one fluid movement, pushing her braid behind her ear, and he found himself suddenly caught in a flashback, her pushing that same braid behind her ear at the end of the schoolday years ago, knocking into him and flashing a brief, apologetic smile as she did so-

"Did you hear me?" she asked, and to his surprise she had crossed to the other side of the kitchen, was standing in front of the stove.

"No," he admitted, feeling thrown off balance again, voice suddenly much gentler. "What?"

"Would it be okay with you if I made breakfast? I'd like to talk to you."

He felt a brief flash of panic, and concern flashed across her face as she said quickly, "Let's make a deal, alright? You let me talk but you don't have to respond or even listen. You just have to eat, and then, if you want to leave, you leave. Or if you want me to leave, I leave."

He looked at her for a long moment before nodding, sitting down at the table. "You used to wear your hair like that. In school." he said slightly reluctantly, hoping it sounded like a statement and not like a question despite the fact that he wasn't sure, relieved when she smiled easily, nodded.

"Yeah. I wore it like this almost every day."

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**Next time: Katniss talks to Peeta- but will Peeta listen? (Cue dramatic music :P). **

**Thanks again for all the follows! Reviews are treasured!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

What could have been seconds or an hour later, Katniss set a plate in front of him. Peeta stared at the soggy eggs and slightly burned toast before shrugging and digging in. "This is terrible," he said after a moment, but not unkindly, taking another bite, and she half-smiled.

"Hey! I've actually gotten a lot better, you know," she protested, sitting down before adding softly, "At cooking, I mean."

She bit her lip, fidgeting with her hands for a minute before picking up her own fork, bravely taking a bite of the eggs and wrinkling her nose. She set the fork down with a clang and went back to twirling her hands aimlessly before taking a deep breath. "Haymitch told me not to come here and talk to you. He told me to let you leave. He told me I was being selfish."

Peeta looked at her for a long moment, wondering where she could possibly be going with this before forcing himself to shove down more of the eggs. "Haymitch is a wise man."

"Yes," Katniss nodded, and Peeta felt his stomach clench as suddenly, unexpectedly, a single tear drifted down her cheek. "I know that. I know that I'm being selfish."

"Nothing new there," Peeta bit out, hating himself a little as she seemed to curl up into herself slightly before lifting her chin.

"No. Nothing new there. I wish that everything bad that you think about me were untrue, but it's not. I'm not a mutt, and I didn't kill your parents, or destroy District 12, and I do care about you, but there are bad things about me. I have been selfish. I have been thoughtless. I have been self-centered. I have avoided facing things. "

Peeta shifted in his chair, suddenly intensely uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, there are bad things about me too."

Her gaze snapped upward, suddenly. "Yes," she nodded. "There are bad things about you too."

"I still don't really know what's real. I sometimes do still want to kill you-"

"No," she cut him off sharply. "Well, yes, but no. Those things- can be fixed. They aren't really you."

He sighed heavily, gripping the edge of the table with all his strength. "Katniss, you're wrong. This is me now."

"No," she replied quickly, certainly, reaching a hand across the table toward him and snatching it back as though she'd been burned before actually making contact with him. "No. Let me tell you the bad things about you. You have a hero complex and no sense at all of self-preservation. You undervalue yourself and your strengths. You fall in love with people who are completely unworthy of you and then seem not to care as you almost die over and over protecting them. These are some bad things about you."

"Katniss, that person doesn't exist-"

"And let me tell you some good things about you," she cut him off mercilessly,intensely, reaching a hand across the table again and this time gripping his lower arm tightly. "You're loyal, and you're giving. You protect people even when they don't deserve it. You help people, just because, not expecting to get anything in return. You're funny, and you're kind. You're not like me, you're unselfish. You-"

"STOP IT!" he growled, wrenching his arm free of her grasp and standing up, stumbling away from the table and knocking over his chair as he did so. "I'm not. I can't be."

"You are," she replied, voice certain, and suddenly calm, looking up at him. "The first thing you did when you got back here was plant primroses. Am I supposed to ignore that? Am I supposed to really think that meant nothing, is nothing? And now you're leaving. Haymitch talked to me last night, and he told me to let you go, that it was selfish not to let you go. And he's right. I want you to stay, and my reasons for wanting you to stay are selfish. But he was wrong, too. He thinks you want to leave because you think you'll be happier and healthier in 2 or wherever you're going to go. But I don't think that's it. I think you're leaving because you think Haymitch and I will be better off if you leave. Safer, or happier, or something."

She paused, looking suddenly somber, and took a deep breath before continuing, making sure to meet his eyes as she stood up, "And I want you to know, _absolutely_, that if you think that, you are wrong."

"Katniss-" he began heavily after a long moment, surprised by how much easier her name was to say than he'd thought it would be, but she held up a hand sharply.

"Please. Don't. Really don't. Just let me finish, because I know if I don't say this now I'll never say it, whether you stay or not. It's hard for me to talk about my feelings. It's hard for me to talk about my life."

She paused again and he took a small step toward her without realizing he was doing so. "It's hard for me to talk about too," he admitted, looking downward, regretting the words almost immediately.

She nodded at him, for once seeming to completely understand what he was saying as she returned his small step toward her with one of her own. "I know that. And I know that you're confused. And I want to help you, if you'll let me help you. But I need you to know that I'm not okay either. I'm sad- really _all_ of the time. Half the time I don't even want to get out of bed in the morning. There were weeks- literally weeks, Peeta- when I didn't, when I probably would have starved to death if Haymitch hadn't brought me food. Prim being gone- is _awful_, and not even just in the obvious ways. My mom barely recognizes me. She won't talk to me on the phone. And it makes me feel like it was all for nothing- my volunteering as tribute. And I know that's selfish too, that it's a ridiculous thing to think when-"

"No," he cut her off, very softly now. "Not ridiculous. Untrue. But not ridiculous."

She looked at him contemplatively before taking another step forward. "I'm lonely. Also all of the time. It's like a part of my heart is just missing. I'm scared sometimes. I still have bad dreams and I wake up thinking someone else is screaming, but every time it's me. I feel useless, hopeless, helpless."

His brow furrowed and he let himself take one more step forward, knowing what he was doing this time. "I feel those things too."

Her eyes met his again and he shivered, feeling like she was looking through him. "Oh Peeta. I know you do. But you're wrong. I know that you're wrong. And if you stay, I want to show you how wrong."

He looked at her inquisitively and to his surprise she blushed before blurting, "Haymitch told me if I wanted you to stay I had to offer you something. But the truth is I'm not in a position to offer anyone anything."

"No," he said quietly, not bothering to pretend that he didn't understand her full meaning. "Me either."

"But I think I_ can_ offer you someone to talk to. Someone who cares about you in a real way. A friend. And someone to be able to answer your questions, when you have them, when you're ready to ask them. I think- in time, you could be happy here. Happier than in 2." She hesitated for a long moment, looking uncertain, then scared, before choking out, " I think maybe, in time, we could be happy together."

She paused, seeming exhausted. "But really, now, it's up to you. In my life, I have been selfish. But I'm ready to be selfless now and do what's best for you. If you think it's best for you to go, then I want you to go, and I don't want you to look back. I'll walk you to the train station, or if you don't want me to, I'll go back home, and I'll leave you alone until you're gone."

He looked at her for a long moment, aware that he was trembling before saying softly, "And if I stay? What if I try to kill you? What if I hurt you?"

She gulped, still meeting his gaze as she said firmly, "We both know that would be terrible. But in case you haven't noticed, things are already terrible. Why shouldn't we at least_ try_ to be happy? And anyway- I believe in you, Peeta."

"Don't say that," he said hoarsely, appalled to find that a tear was drifting down his own cheek.

To his amazement she closed the distance between them, reaching up to wipe the tear from his cheek and leaving her hand there caressing him even after the tear was gone.

"Well, I do," she said softly. "Don't you believe in me too?"

He gulped. "I want to."

She smiled at him, slowly and sincerely. "I'll take it."

* * *

**Thank you so much for the reviews and follows, they continue to make me SO happy! You guys are the best :) I always love to hear what people think, good or bad!**

**Next chapter: Haymitch makes a return to the story, Katniss and Peeta spend some time alone in the woods (though maybe not in the way you think!) **

**As another note, from now on I think I'm going to be updating on a once-weekly schedule, either Saturdays or Sundays. I know I've been updating more quickly than that and I'm sorry for the change, but work is really exploding for me :/ I will try to keep the chapters a bit on the longer side to compensate!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Peeta walked into Haymitch's living room, unsurprised to see him sleeping on the couch. "Haymitch," he called cautiously, also unsurprised when the older man jumped up with a roar, assuming a fighting position.

Haymitch dropped his fists when he registered Peeta standing there. "Trying to give an old man a heart attack?" he questioned, but his tone was light, almost playful, as he regarded him.

"No. Just wanted to tell you dinner is at 7 at my place. I think you'll find my cooking skills stack up very favorably compared to Katniss's."

Haymitch frowned, regarding him carefully. "You're not leaving?"

Peeta shook his head. "No. Not today."

A wide grin broke out on Haymitch's face and he moved forward, slapping Peeta on the back before clearing his throat and saying awkwardly, "Don't get too emotional, kid. You know I frown on that touchy feely stuff."

And Peeta felt himself smiling widely too, for the first time that he could remember since the 75th Games ended as he stepped forward, hugging Haymitch tightly. "Don't worry, Haymitch. I won't."

* * *

At dinner on the first night, Peeta didn't speak. Katniss didn't either. Haymitch found himself in the uncomfortable and new position of trying to carry the conversation by himself while sober. He failed. He consoled himself with the fact that, even if Peeta didn't intend to ever speak again, he could certainly bake.

On the second night, Katniss seemed like herself again. She talked with some animation about a new section of the woods she'd discovered, a deer that she'd seen. Haymitch told her it would be a better story if she'd shot it. She smiled, muttering "maybe tomorrow." When she and Peeta reached for the salt at the same moment, both blushed and neither took it, snatching their hands away. It sat on the table for the rest of the night, neglected.

On the third night, Peeta joined the conversation hesitantly, offering a word here and there. Katniss asked him to pass the mashed potatoes and he did, her hand overlapping with his for a moment as she took it from him. In an instant, her eyes found his and Haymitch felt as though he were interrupting a private moment before Peeta dropped his gaze.

On the fourth morning, Katniss caught her deer.

* * *

Haymitch was outside with his geese when Katniss came running up from the woods, panting, ignoring him and banging on Peeta's door. When Peeta didn't answer, Katniss began screaming his name incessantly, increasing her volume until Haymitch was sure he was about to go deaf.

"Gee," Haymitch offered dryly, approaching her. "You'd almost think he's ignoring you."

She whirled to glare at him, abruptly stopping her banging on the door, and he felt suddenly and unexpectedly ashamed. "Can I help instead?" he offered gruffly.

"Sure," she said, flashing him a slightly wicked smile. "I killed the deer and I need help dragging it back here. Want to come?"

He looked at her for a long moment, flabbergasted, before yelling "Mellark! Get your ass out here! Katniss needs your help!"

After a long moment, Peeta came to the door, glaring at both of them. "It's not even 9 am. Did it occur to either of you that I might be asleep?"

"I saw you this morning watering the primroses," Katniss replied testily. "I knew you weren't asleep."

He continued to glare at her, but sighed, rolling his eyes in resignation. "What's going on?"

She grinned at him triumphantly. "We've got a deer."

He looked at her suspiciously. "What do you mean by we?"

* * *

Katniss pushed the deer forward with a low grunt, sighing in relief as she finally saw Victor's Village looming in the distance, a symbol of the fact that their long and painfully silent journey was about to come to an end. "I can see it," she called to Peeta, and as he turned to glare at her she realized it was a stupid thing to say.

"Yeah, thanks," he grunted. "I can see it too."

She exhaled in frustration, hissing, "Well, then, can't you pull any faster?"

Peeta dropped his side of the deer, whirling around to face her, disbelief and anger clear on his face as he repeated incredulously "Can't _I_ pull any faster? At this point, this would have been quicker if I'd just picked up the deer and carried it on my back."

With relief, Katniss dropped her end of the deer too. "Okay then, you do that," she said, walking past him toward Victor's Village, gasping when he grabbed her wrist and whirled her back to face him.

"Are you serious?" he said, in the same disbelieving tone. "You're just going to leave me here with the deer?"

"What's wrong, the whole carrying it on your back idea suddenly not so appealing after all?" she questioned, eyes flashing. "In case you didn't notice, I caught us dinner. I caught us a whole month of dinner. I don't expect you to be _grateful_ or anything crazy like that, but it's not like the whole getting it here process has been a picnic for me either."

Ther stared at one another for long silent moments before Peeta swallowed and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry. You're right."

She swallowed too, shrugging slightly. "I'm sorry too. It was wrong to storm away." she replied, feeling suddenly like they were two actors in a play, saying the right things but not feeling it at all.

He nodded. "Come on," he said, gently, picking up his end of the deer again and cringing as she picked hers up too, shoving forward slowly.

* * *

Katniss exhaled in relief as they deposited the deer in the center of Victor's Village, somewhere in between their homes.

"Thanks," she said to Peeta, hoping that her gratitude was clear in her voice.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice sounding a bit hollow to her before he inquired, "Now what?"

"Now we have to cut it," she said matter-of-factly, looking down at the deer a bit skeptically. "Or maybe we're just supposed to roast it?"

"Oh," he said, stepping away. "Well, ok then. See you at dinner."

She looked at him in confusion, face aghast. "What do you mean? Where are you going?"

He looked at her, his confused expression mirroring her own. "Home. Why?"

"Well- I mean, I assumed you'd cut it. Or gut it. Or whatever you do."

He blinked, and his expression grew, if possible, more confused. "Why would you assume that?" he asked blankly, taking another step away as though scared she might force him to start dissecting the deer with his bare hands.

She flushed, shrugging. "Well, I mean- you have experience. With food."

He continued to look at her blankly, his expression now bordering on incredulous. "You do know I worked at a _bakery_, right?"

"What, they don't have knives at a bakery?" she shot back, putting her hands on her hips, knowing on some level that she was being ridiculous as he exhaled deeply.

"Katniss," he began slowly, almost as if he were speaking to a small child, "I know the words 'baker' and 'butcher' bear a superficial resemblance to one another-"

"Did I hear something about knives?" Haymitch asked, casually striding up to them, a giant knife in each hand. "I've carved a pig or two in my day. Don't see how this could be so different."

Peeta and Katniss looked at one another, then at Haymitch, then at the giant knives before both quickly backing away.

"Great then, let me know if you need help-" "Okay, sounds good, see you at dinner-" they said simultaneously, rushing toward their respective houses and leaving Haymitch to his work.

* * *

The fourth night, Haymitch spent all of dinner complaining about how, in fact, carving a pig and carving a deer were totally different.

* * *

_Hi everyone! Thanks so much again for the reviews and follows and favorites- they make my day!_

_I'll be in California next weekend (yay sunshine!) so I am not sure if I should post the next chapter Wednesday before I go of if I will wait until after I'm back. Thoughts?_

_Again, thanks for the incredible support!_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Katniss stretched and squinted as she walked out onto her porch in the morning light. Across from her she could see Peeta's profile as he sat on his own porch, hunched over something that she couldn't see. Haymitch was to her right, still determinedly slicing up the deer nearly 24 hours later.

She walked over to him because it seemed easier, less exhausting. "Hey," she called. "How's it going?"

He looked between her and what was, by now, a very mangled deer. "Not sure. At this rate we might have something ready to eat by Friday."

She smiled briefly before realizing, abruptly, that he was serious. "Yeah, well, there's a further problem," she said dryly, smirking. Haymitch quickly looked toward Peeta and Katniss stepped quickly forward, lowering her voice. "No, not him. The deer. I just realized- I have no idea how to cook it."

"Well, I think it's safe to say that the 'roasting it whole' option has passed," he deadpanned, and she rolled her eyes.

"Even if that were a real thing, we never could have managed it. It was too big."

At that Haymitch looked at Peeta again, contemplatively. "That's just the right attitude- if you want to get nowhere."

His meaning wasn't lost on Katniss and her gaze wandered to the lonely form on the porch too. "Have you talked to him today?"

Haymitch scoffed. "Define talk. I talked to him. He maybe heard me. Does that count?"

"Unfortunately, I'm going to have to go with yes," she sighed, marking the ground with her boot, looking again toward Peeta.

"You want to try?" Haymitch questioned, as he wielded the knife again, causing her to laugh.

"Try what? Slicing and dicing that thing? Or talking to Peeta?"

"Either? Both?" he replied easily, slicing down.

"He's being kind of an asshole," she said, wielding a knife herself, looking to him and relieved when he stepped behind her, easily guiding her hands as she sliced down, causing a large slice of deer to tumble to the ground.

"See?" Haymitch said, ignoring her statement. "It's easy once you know where to cut."

And again his meaning wasn't lost on her, as she turned around, handing the knife back to him. "And if I don't know where to cut?"

He frowned, looking at her with what might almost have been sadness. "Then you just keep trying until you figure it out, and hope you don't cause any irreparable damage on the way."

"Thanks, that's comforting," she said sarcastically as she stepped away from him, looking again toward Peeta.

"Anytime. sweetheart."

* * *

Katniss hesitated a few feet from Peeta's porch, unsurprised to see that he was blankly staring at the same book she'd seen him looking at when she exited her house, wondering if he'd even managed to turn the page.

She took a deep breath, hesitated, braced herself, and spoke. "Peeta. Can I come up?"

He didn't react, just continued to stare down at the page, and she felt frustrating bubbling up inside of her- frustration that was quickly overpowered by concern. "Peeta," she repeated, much louder, talking a few steps forward and hesitating on the lowermost porch step. "Did you hear me? I'd like to come up."

He shook his head slowly as if coming out of a daze and turned to look at her, nodding once before turning back to the book.

Katniss suddenly felt uneasy, as though she were intruding, but she forced herself to walk up the stairs.

"Can I sit?" she asked, not expecting him to answer, but he nodded, again just once, gesturing distantly to the seat next to him.

She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the chair and pulled it closer to his, so that if she moved it just one more inch they would be touching.

She just sat there for a long moment, trying to pretend to herself that companionable silence was enough and forced to admit, almost immediately, that it was not enough for her. Not now.

"What are you reading?" she asked carefully, watching his face for any sign of emotion, seeing none.

"Nothing," he replied after a long moment, shutting the book and turning his face toward hers.

The whole thing struck her as so odd that she couldn't help but draw back slightly, tilting her chin to the side as though something might be revealed to her if she just changed the angle of her head. "Okay…" she responded after taking a long moment of her own. "Can I see it?"

To her shock nodded easily, handing the book quickly over to her without a word. She took in the solid black cover without any writing before flipping it over and seeing an equally black cover. "This is a sketchbook," she said slowly, turning it back around and moving to hand it back to him. "I didn't realize. This is private."

"It's not private," he replied, shoving it back toward her lightly. "It's nothing."

"Peeta, it's not nothing."

"It's nothing," he repeated, more forcefully, taking the book back from her and opening it to a random page, showing it to her, then another.

"It's empty," she said, hating how she kept stating the obvious after he'd flipped through fifteen or 20 more pages, and he nodded, shutting it again before setting it on the ground.

"Yes."

"What will you put in it?" she asked quietly, suddenly feeling like she might scare him away if she spoke too loudly.

He looked at her for a long moment as though he were trying to decide something, and she wondered, feeling totally helpless, what he was deciding and how she could help him, if she could help him. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, anything, but at the expression on his face snapped it shut again, forcing herself to wait, even though waiting had never come naturally to her, for a reply that she knew might never come.

Seconds dragged into minutes, and she sighed, wondered what she should say now that the moment had passed- whether she should say something about the deer, or about how nice it was that spring was finally here-

"It's stupid," he said,and Katniss felt her head snap back in shock at the fact that he had spoken, and she felt helpless again as she wondered if he was going to continue or if she should respond, biting down hard on her lip to stop herself from blurting out the first thing she might think.

"I won't think it's stupid," she said carefully after a minute, digging her nails into her palms as she forced herself to be patient and see what else he would say- if he would even say anything else.

He turned his whole body toward her, then, searching her face. Katniss shifted uneasily, wondering what he was looking for, hoping he would find it as she forced herself to meet his eyes. "I wanted to make some sort of tribute," he said reluctantly, slowly. "To the tributes." He flushed slightly and Katniss forced herself not to move, fought the instinct to reach for his hand. "See," he blurted, standing up, "It sounds stupid."

"No," she said firmly, standing too. "It doesn't sound stupid. I've wanted to do something too. I've been talking to Dr. Aurelius about it. He- he sent me paper. I got the idea from this plant book my dad used to have. I wanted to make a book."

He looked at her, blankly at first and then with something resembling disbelief. "You- you really wanted to make one too?" he questioned carefully, and Katniss noticed, for the first time, that his fists were clenched at his sides, mirroring her own.

To her horror, Katniss felt herself blushing, but she squared her shoulders, forced herself to push through it. "I mean- I'm not much of an artist. Not like you. But- maybe- if you wanted- we could make the book together. You could paint, or draw, and I could maybe write some things. There could be pictures. We could talk about it. It could be-" and despite herself Katniss felt herself flushing again. "I think maybe it could be helpful to me. And also to you. If it's okay with you."

He looked at her for a long, silent moment, and Katniss dug her nails harder into her palms, forced herself to continue this unnatural patience as he contemplated. "If you mean it," he said slowly, almost reluctantly, "I think- I think I would like that."

She sat down again, cautiously, hoping he would follow suit, relieved when he did, retrieving the book from the ground. "I haven't known where to start," he admitted, and she nodded seriously.

"Starting is hardest." She paused, forced herself to think before talking, wondered if it would ever become easier. "Maybe- we could do Glimmer first."

He met her eye, nodded. "Okay."

* * *

_Thanks so much for all the reviews of the last chapter, you guys make my life! Sorry about the delay in getting this one up- I will be posting on Saturdays on the regular again now that I'm back from my trip :)_

_I'd love to hear thoughts on this chapter, I really struggled with it. I know it's slightly off cannon but that's how it flowed for me... sigh._

_Next chapter: someone is drunk- and it's not Haymitch!_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The next few days slowly bled into a few weeks, passing quickly, productively. The weather became slowly warmer and the last traces of snow melted, feeling strangely symbolic to Katniss, though she couldn't decide if the symbolism was real or if she was just kidding herself.

Peeta's silence continued but as the days passed Katniss found it no longer unnerved her- found that she was beginning to take comfort in his stillness, in the strength behind his quiet gestures and slow movements, strength she was glad she could see.

The days were mostly the same, consisting of Peeta and Katniss passing sheets of scratch paper back and forth, filled with different things- photographs, images, words, stories, doodles. They were both quiet, earnest, and brutal, scratching out ideas and adding ones of their own, pouring over heavy, beautiful paper that Dr. Aurelius had sent and discarding certain pieces, favoring others, usually communicating with glances, nods, grimaces.

Sometimes one of them would mention a name and the other would say just a few words before moving to the paper. Other times the conversations were slightly longer, painfully first time Cinna was mentioned, Katniss cried. Peeta reached out and held her until she stopped, so matter-of factly that she didn't realize what had happened until hours later, after dinner, when she was laying in bed and remembering her she did realize, she flushed, but she wasn't sure whether it was because she was embarrassed to have cried or whether it was because of something else.

The nights were livelier- Haymitch saw to that. He was still sober, but he'd lost none of his animation, telling stories about his geese until Katniss laughed and Peeta almost smiled, asking them questions, not settling for one word answers. The deer Katniss had captured was a nightly fixture at the table, at first wonderful, then satisfying, then too much, but they kept eating it determinedly, occasionally accented by something Peeta had baked, something small that Katniss had caught. The three of them talked about starting a garden but only Peeta made any effort to do so, late at night, when he didn't think anyone was watching.

But Katniss was watching.

She watched Peeta carefully, constantly, especially when he wasn't watching her, when she hoped he didn't realize she was looking. When he'd first arrived, she had been terrified that he might try to hurt her, but as time passed she worried less about that and more about the distant look that was usually in his eyes, the fact that he never laughed. Never smiled. She wondered if this was what it took for him to be in control- this seemingly emotionless existence- and if so whether she'd actually prefer if he'd just try to kill her once in a while. And she wondered, unsettled, if this was him now- a sort of Peeta 2.0 with some of the qualities she'd loved about him- his strength, his stability- but not others. She wondered if he might be good for her anyway, even if the other things were missing. She wondered if he cared enough to try. She wondered if he cared too much to try.

She watched, and she wondered, and she knew nothing, and she felt too much.

* * *

At dinner one night, a few weeks into what Katniss now referred to as their 'deer eating adventure' with a grimace, Haymitch pulled out a bottle of wine. Katniss didn't notice at first, in fact only noticed because she was monitoring Peeta out of the corner of her eye and became alarmed at how fixated his gaze was. When she thought to follow his gaze, she started, not bothering to hide her surprise.

"I knew you had some somewhere," she blurted, then wished she hadn't, feeling stupid as both Peeta and Haymitch turned to look at her, Peeta blankly, Haymitch with unveiled amusement.

"Of course I had some somewhere. What do you take me for?"

He poured himself a glass, filling it just a little higher than necessary before taking a long sip and smiling. "Still just as good as I remember it."

Peeta looked at him, and Katniss looked at Peeta, noticed that his expression had changed, just slightly, from the blank one he customarily wore now. "So you've decided it's safe to drink?" he asked hesitantly, trying to sound like he wasn't asking a question about himself, failing miserably.

"Isn't it?" Haymitch questioned, studying Peeta closely before his face turned serious and he added, "On the other hand, is it ever?"

Katniss frowned, looking back and forth between them as Haymitch took another swig from his glass.

"You want some, kid?" he questioned, and she started, thinking he was talking to her, a bit affronted when she saw his gaze still clearly trained on Peeta.

"No, thanks," Peeta said, sounding certain and amused and just slightly judgmental, almost like his old self again.

Haymitch shrugged, taking another and rather large sip. "Suit yourself."

Katniss looked at him rather incredulously, feeling a shiver of defiance. "Don't mind if I do, thanks," she said abruptly, reaching across the table and snatching the wine bottle from where it set next to Haymitch and pouring some into her own empty water glass.

Haymitch lifted his eyebrows then shrugged, raising his glass toward her before taking another sip. Peeta looked at her skeptically, eying the water glass before rolling his eyes and muttering something that sounded like "classy" under his breath.

Undeterred, Katniss took a sip, then thought about spitting it out, wrinkling her nose at the slightly sour taste. After a moment she forced herself to swallow, setting the glass down as if it were nothing, hoping she hadn't looked as stupid as she'd felt.

Haymitch just raised his glass to her again,though, and Peeta shook his head slightly as though absolving himself of the situation before looking away.

* * *

Katniss's head spun slightly as she stood up to leave Haymitch's house, and she clutched the back of her chair lightly before shaking her head. "Thanks Haymitch," she said, just a little too brightly. "See you tomorrow!"

To her confusion Haymitch and Peeta shared what was clearly a pointed look as she waved, taking a few steps toward the front door.

"I'll walk her home," Peeta said out loud after a moment, and Katniss felt confused about why he was telling Haymitch instead of her as she paused, waiting for him to reach her.

* * *

_Sorry it's a few days late :) As always reviews are treasured!_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"You don't have to walk me home," Katniss said, meaning it, even as she slowed down to allow him to fall into step beside her. "It's just over there-"

"Yes," Peeta said, his mouth twisting slightly, and she couldn't tell if he was amused or aggravated as he opened Haymitch's front door, stepping out into the cool spring air. "I know. Thanks."

"Okaaaay…" she said slowly, wondering if he would ever get any less confusing, if her head would ever stop spinning.

She tripped going down Haymitch's steps and took a sharp breath when Peeta came up behind her, placing a firm hand on the small of her back and near-propelling her toward her home.

"Peeta, you walk so fast," she complained, feeling like she might fall at any moment, wondering how it was possible for them to be taking this long to reach her house at the fantastic speed at which they were going.

"If you say so, Katniss," he said in a tone that was almost offensively patient, as though he were speaking to a five year old.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned, trying to plant her feet on the ground to confront him, surprised when she failed miserably and instead just kept walking at Peeta's insane pace toward her house.

"It means you're drunk, girl on fire," he replied, and this time his tone was kinder, and she couldn't tell if he was teasing or not as they finally neared her porch.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, beginning to ascend her steps. "I only had 3 glasses and Haymitch had dozens and dozens-"

His mouth twisted again, and again she couldn't tell if he was annoyed or if this was Peeta's new smile. "I think dozens and dozens is an exaggeration, even for him," Peeta said, and as the moonlight caught his eyes she would have sworn she saw affection there, and maybe also humor-

"Oh!" she gasped, tripping again, right in front of her door, and with speed she hadn't known he possessed, Peeta rushed forward, grabbing for her. She suddenly found herself with her back pressed against the door, Peeta's hands gripping her waist just a little too tightly, his body so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

For one crazy moment she allowed herself to wonder what might have happened now if this was a different time, if they lived in a different world, visions so vivid they might have been memories popping into her head- him shoving her against the door, just a little too roughly, leaning down to kiss her. Her hand in his hair, his hands exactly where they were right now, on her waist. One of her legs wrapping around _his_ waist, and then maybe the other-

"Katniss," she heard him snap as though from very far away and she shook her head to clear it, fighting the urge to moan as it just made her dizzy. "Answer me. Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she questioned, honestly confused by the question, and he shook his head disbelievingly, dropping his hands from their position on her waist and taking a large step back. "Good." A pause, then softer, "Good."

She looked at his face, wondering for the first time how eyes manage to adjust to the darkness, how she was able to see him at all.

"Are you going in?" he asked after a moment, seeming confused, and Katniss wondered through her spinning head whether any of them would ever be unconfused ever again.

"Yes. Of course." she replied after a moment, still looking at him in the darkness, making no move toward the door.

Seconds ticked by, both of them waiting- him for her to open the door, her for something she couldn't identify.

"Um- you do remember how to open the door?"

"Yes, I remember how to open the door," she snapped, swaying slightly, and he moved as though he might grab her again but then didn't, staring at her instead.

"So- why don't you?"

"I'm THINKING, okay," she huffed, turning around and opening the unlocked door before moving to close it, surprised when he followed her in.

"What are you doing?" she asked, more surprised than anything else as he placed a firm hand on her lower back again, guiding her up the steps.

"Making sure you don't kill yourself on the way to the bedroom," he deadpanned and she laughed, suddenly feeling like that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"Funny," she said, stopping just outside her bedroom door before her face grew serious and she just as suddenly felt like she was going to cry. "You can still be funny. Now the real question is whether or not you can still smile."

He took a step away from her, looking surprised, then slightly offended. "Of course I can smile."

"Well, you don't," she said dully, suddenly feeling very, very tired, incapable of having this conversation even though she was the one who had started it. "Do you even try?"

"Honestly? I don't think about smiling very much, Katniss. It's not like there's really that much to smile about."

"Then what would it take to make you smile, Peeta?" she questioned softly, flushing hotly after a moment as she realized that the question might sound suggestive and then giving a sigh of relief as it became clear he hadn't taken it that way, as he pursed his lips in what looked like real concentration.

"I really don't know." he said after a long moment, shrugging in a way that was almost helpless and she swallowed, suddenly realizing her mouth was dry, wondered if that was a side effect of alcohol.

"Well- think about it," she said, feeling the words were somewhat anticlimactic before placing her hand on the door knob of her room, nodding toward it before saying wryly, "This is me."

He nodded and turned to go.

Without thinking about it, Katniss reached out, grabbed clumsily for his hand, grasped it tightly when how own miraculously made contact.

He looked down at their hands for a pregnant moment before turning to face her, his eyes meeting hers, and she shivered slightly even though his eyes were, finally, warm.

"Thanks for walking me home, Peeta," she whispered, squeezing his hand tightly, just once, and feeling her heart lift slightly in surprise as he slowly, hesitantly squeezed hers back.

"You're welcome, Katniss."

They both looked down at their hands at the same time and Katniss felt suddenly lightheaded, squeezing his hand once more before letting go slowly.

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_Thanks all for reading! Reviews, follows, and favorites are so appreciated :D_


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